


Not Quite Fake

by Artemis1000



Category: Rogue One: A Star Wars Story (2016), Star Wars - All Media Types, Star Wars: Rebels
Genre: F/M, Fake/Pretend Relationship, First Kiss, Flirting, Mission Fic
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-12-14
Updated: 2019-12-14
Packaged: 2021-01-23 18:50:45
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,974
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21324961
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Artemis1000/pseuds/Artemis1000
Summary: Cassian Andor's path keeps crossing with Hera Syndulla's. He has always known better than to let get feelings in the way of doing your duty to the rebellion but the nice thing with Hera is, she knows how to multitask.
Relationships: Cassian Andor/Hera Syndulla
Comments: 2
Kudos: 12
Collections: Star Wars Rare Pairs Exchange 2019





	Not Quite Fake

**Author's Note:**

  * For [spaceyquill](https://archiveofourown.org/users/spaceyquill/gifts).

“Remember the first time we worked together?”

Hera’s smile was quirked, amusement shining brightly in her vivid green eyes. “Shouldn’t you be off doing spy things?”

Everything told Cassian that she was inwardly laughing at him and he frowned at her mirth, yet in truth, he couldn’t even bring himself to be annoyed. How easily Hera could still smile and laugh was always one of his favorite things about working with her – a reminder of what people like him, who didn’t smile so easily anymore, were fighting for, maybe. A reminder you didn’t have to lose yourself like he did to be an effective rebel, she was likely to argue.

He ignored her barb, just giving her a faintly amused look. They were sitting far too close for comfort in the seedy cantina, pretending to be lovers, and he didn’t find her closeness uncomfortable at all, that was far more interesting than her fond mockery.

Cassian gave her a tiny smile of his own. “Funny you should mention that,” he murmured, his voice pitched to something soft and intimate that fell just barely short of being seductive. He leaned a little more into her, his hand on her shoulder, fingertips stroking the edge of a lekku with a promise for more – they did still have an audience to perform for, after all. “What if I told you that’s exactly what I’m doing.”

Hera was laughing. It was only in her eyes but she was. “If you have to tell me what you’re doing you’re not doing it right, super spy.”

“Remember our first mission?” he tried again, undeterred. The amusement in his own eyes sparked brighter, his face softened with it.

He still had half an eye on the two exits, of course, and on the group of thugs failing to be discrete at a corner table. They were ferrying Imperial weapons to a crime syndicate working for the Empire, doing their dirty work off the record. They had made the mistake of haranguing Lothal’s rebels once too often.

The nice thing about working with Hera Syndulla was, she believed in multitasking – and so did Cassian Andor.

“I remember.” Hera made an amused noise. “You proved yourself the most unromantic man I have ever met.”

He shrugged, easily accepting the accusation. “Maybe it was part of my persona.”

Hera arched her brows at him. “Maybe.”

Maybe he should have been concerned that they had a whole list of missions where they had faked a couple. Maybe he should have been second-guessing these orders by now. Maybe he just couldn’t bring himself to care all that much when he enjoyed every moment of getting to be so close to Hera that he could admire every fleck of darker green in her eyes and when the rich green skin of her lekku proved just as soft and warm under his fingertips as he remembered.

They shared another grin, half teasing, half something else which made something low in Cassian’s belly feel all fluttery as if he were a foolish boy instead of the jaded spy who should be paying more attention to his mark and less to his partner-in-crime.

Hera was brilliant and passionate and as dedicated to the Rebel Alliance as he was, yet she never failed to startle Cassian with how different she was. She never shied away from letting herself care for people, she gave second chances where he saw security risks and more often than not, her optimism was rewarded. If it were anyone else, Cassian would have found it infuriating. In her, he simply observed and admired it.

The gathering of thugs started to disperse, a few at a time. Cassian felt overcome by a wave of regret. When he looked into Hera’s eyes, he could read the same emotion in her eyes.

There went their cozy evening in the cantina. Time to get back to work.

She left first while he waited for another group to follow. His work was simpler than hers. Hera would be guiding her team to the hideout, which they would be blowing to high heavens once Cassian had done his part – his part was simpler than hers, it only required a blaster.

“We work well together,” Cassian observed once they reconvened by the abandoned shipyard where Cassian’s escape shuttle was hidden.

There was no real reason to reconvene, he had both witnessed and heard the success of Hera’s part of the mission, and by all means, she and the Ghost should already be leaving the solar system. That she had needed no convincing to meet up with him again once their work was done…

Irrational, senseless hope flickered within him and if he were completely honest with himself – which he, as a rule, preferred to avoid – he would have admitted that it was a very familiar hope, the hope which had him prioritize Hera Syndulla’s requests over every other mission he had scheduled.

He watched her lean against his dingy little ship, just large enough for one but faster and better armed than it looked. She was waiting for him with her arms lazily crossed over her chest, her body language relaxed. She was beautiful in every way Cassian knew to appreciate, from her unbreakable spirit to the lithe curves of her body which hid a strength born of a lifetime spent running and fighting much like his own.

“We always do. That’s why they keep pairing us up.”

She ought to be in space – and so did he.

Yet Cassian lingered, approaching her slowly, feeling a little uncertain, a little shy even as that hope flared within him. Hope meant a lot to him but he was more used to having hope for the rebellion, for the galaxy, for the state of a future he didn’t expect to see – never so much hope for himself, that one was dangerous in ways which infiltrating a Star Destroyer without backup couldn’t even hope to compare to.

He approached her slowly, his steps measured, the hiss of the blaster shots he had fired less than an hour ago still echoing at the back of his mind. It would be days yet until he had shaken them off, until he had fully compartmentalized. This was the worst possible time for pursuing answers – but they were rebels, there would never be a good time for the likes of them. It was one of the realities of his life he had long since accepted.

“Is that the only reason why?” Cassian asked, his face as solemn as his voice.

Hera sized him up – not his body, it was more like her gaze was piercing him to gaze right into his soul. A terrifying thought, for sure, when he had never found much that was admirable and far more to be hidden in his own soul. Yet she smiled a small, secretive smile. “Took you long enough to ask why I keep requesting you.”

Cassian’s eyes widened. “You do?”

“Still can’t figure it out, super spy?” Hera’s arms loosened. She took a step towards him, crossing what distance remained between them.

They weren’t quite toe to toe yet but very close to it, close enough that Cassian’s breath caught in his throat. There was nobody watching them now, no audience to perform for. This was just them, no more pretenses. He swallowed hard, finding his mouth dry and devoid of all these clever words with which he would talk himself out of trouble on a mission. He was so much better at handling himself on missions.

“Guess not.” Hera didn’t quite roll her eyes but she sounded close to it. “For such a smart man you are remarkably dense.”

“Am I?” Cassian echoed, feeling very dense indeed. His heart was pounding in his chest and the breaths he took couldn’t quite fill his lungs. Maybe there was something wrong with the air on this planet, reports did say the atmosphere held slightly less oxygen than was recommended for humans.

Hera huffed and then her arms were coming up, wrapping around his neck, and then she was leaning in, her lips pressing against his.

Cassian’s thoughts ground to a halt, everything grinding to a halt in his head except for the part of his brain which was drowning in the sensation of her kiss – later, he would only be able to marvel that he found the presence of mind to part his lips and kiss her back.

Hera still tasted of the horrible homebrew they had drunk at the cantina and once he remembered how to control his own body, Cassian eagerly plundered her mouth for every last trace of this taste.

She was smiling when she pulled away or maybe smirking described it better. “Well, I see even sleuths can learn.”

“Faster than fly girls, anyway,” Cassian sniped back, the words clumsy and foreign on his tongue. He had never been one for playful rivalries or jokes, not unless it was the macabre gallows’ humor he shared with K-2SO anyway, but with Hera he had always found himself wanting to keep up, to meet her blow for blow.

She rewarded his weak joke with a laugh as if it had been actually funny and Cassian felt another wave of warmth overwhelm him. Her fingers trailed through his hair before they curled against the back of his neck. “Hey now. Just because you can’t fly…”

The indignant noise Cassian made had Hera laughing again and this time, he joined her, his own chuckles softer and chagrined. “Just because I can’t compare to the great Hera Syndulla…”

“And don’t you forget it.”

Cassian silenced her with another kiss. He pulled Hera to him, his hands gliding over her hips, finding the small of her back, pulling her against him.

“Do you have any idea how long I have wanted to kiss you?” he murmured against her lips.

“No, but I know how long I’ve been wanting to.”

He exhaled slowly. “I don’t want to leave.”

It was irrational, it was selfish, but two kisses weren’t enough. Not when it could be weeks or months or even years before their paths crossed again, not when either of them could die in the next mission and the other wouldn’t even know until they learned of it by chance.

Yet every minute they lingered meant more risk of discovery, of capture, of last-minute failure for a mission which had already all but succeeded.

Hera pressed her forehead against his. “I know.”

As if on cue, Cassian’s comm beeped a shrill warning, the sensors he had placed around the abandoned shipyard triggering the proximity alert.

They both shifted, softness and longing giving way to purposeful professionalism as they took a step backward and surveyed their surroundings, hands already going for their blasters.

“Get out of here,” Cassian said. “I’ll handle this.”

Hera didn’t question how, didn’t question him. She only permitted herself a lingering look and then, impulsively, she grabbed him for one last quick, hard kiss against his lips. “Don’t die,” she ordered, and then she ran, vanishing between the wrecks that littered the shipyard to return to the Ghost and the crew awaiting her command.

Cassian gave himself a moment to recall the sensation of Hera’s lips against his own before he darted into the shuttle. After all, it had a lot more firepower than you would expect from such a tiny ship, and he had to keep their uninvited guests busy while Hera made her way back to the Ghost.

_The most unromantic man she had ever met_, Hera had called him in the cantina. Cassian Andor decided that for playing bait, he should at least be upgraded to the third most unromantic man she had ever met. He would tell her so, the next time she requested him to play her no-longer-fake boyfriend. 


End file.
